


I'll march 'til the dawn brings me rest

by Varaen



Series: Fills for LLA 2017 [2]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2017-04-05
Packaged: 2018-10-15 04:50:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10550354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Varaen/pseuds/Varaen
Summary: On the way north, Irimë steels her resolve.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the Legendarium Ladies April 2017 April 3. General Prompt: Wants and Wishes

Irimë could barely remember how it felt like not to be hungry. Her sense of time was out of sync since darkness fell, but the last scraps of food were more than a few days ago. Hunger was like a void in her belly, gnawing at her bones and leaving her ravenous and tired. They had been unprepared. Her stomach growled like a cornered sabre-toothed cat.

“Irissë, Elenwë, Turukáno and some others went hunting, mother. They claimed to have heard a herd of elk further north. We could all use some food and rest.”

Ehtelëon was right. They were all miserably cold and hungry, moving onwards on a mixture of determination, pride and spite more than anything else. Centuries later, historians would tell that Arafinwë and his followers turned back repentant and remorseful, reluctant to defy the Valar after Námo Doomed the Noldor. Irimë knew the truth: They had seen the blizzard further north, remembered tales of the northern icefields, and turned back like the frightened cowards they were. She would not. Someone had to punch some sense into Fëanáro, and it might as well be her. He had always responded better to those among his siblings who preferred their mother-names, whether it was out of some sense of kinship, or because he thought them less of a competition to his father’s attention and legacy. She could bear the cold and the hunger for that sliver of hope, that her and Faniel might succeed where the Valar had not. 

 

When they caught up with the hunters, Irimë realised that Ehtelëon had simplified matters: Irissë, Elenwë and Turukáno had been accompanied by a good three dozen hunters who had brought down the entire herd of elk between them. To one side, she recognised something resembling the beginning of a camp. Whole elk were cooking in shallow pits. They would eat well today, for the first time since they had left the northernmost Telerin port behind. Later, she would shoulder her pack and go on through the darkness, lit only by firelight and the stars. It was almost funny, in a tragic way, to see the truth in all those ancient tales. Her eyes did not need the light of the Trees to see, and the stars were as beautiful as her parents had always told her. Irimë closed her eyes. She was not in the mood for beauty, and had not been for some time.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m using Quenya names here because it’s Helcaraxë time and Sindarin sounds jarring to me in that context.
> 
> Irimë is Lalwen (next younger sister to Fingolfin)  
> Irissë is Aredhel  
> Turukáno is Turgon  
> Ehtelëon will be known as Ecthelion later  
> Arafinwë is Finarfin  
> Faniel is the fifth child of Finwë, younger than Irimë and older than Arafinwë


End file.
